Spike and Tara's First Meeting
by Madonnalal
Summary: AU A friendship that could have changed everything.
1. The First Meeting

Title: Spike and Tara's first meeting

Author: Madonnalal

Summary- A friendship that could have changed everything. AU Around Season 4~ish

Sequel to: I Wish I Knew You When I Was a Kid

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, all rights go to Joss Weadon, but I sure could use the money.

"Bloody Hell!"

A flash of golden hair seconds before the collision was all the warning he had. Spike had been stumbling drunk through the alley way, unhappily minding his own business when this pasty blonde had the nerve to knock into him on her way out of the Coffee Hut. She had flown out of the door with several large books in hand, leaving a trail of papers flying behind her. Spike had been knocked clear off his feet and now laid in a pile of vampiric misery on the ground. The girl was equally unbalanced by the impact of their unfortunate bodies and was currently sitting in her own aura of unhappiness with her papers floating down to the ground around them.

The day hadn't been going well for Tara. She had slept through her alarm and missed a major exam for her 8 am class. Following that she had her clothes stolen from the dormitory laundry room. The jerk was thoughtful enough to leave two non-matching socks from her load to keep as souvenirs of the day. Now, when she finally got some time to study her latest spell book she had run over a very obviously drunk man with large muscles and a very imposing appearance. She seriously regretted getting out of bed at all this morning.

Spike was still on his back, staring up at the night sky. His mind was paralyzed with alcohol and sorrow and there was a nasty ring in his ears. His back felt plastered to the cement and felt no compulsion to move.

Tara moved to get up but saw that her victim had yet to move from the place he was thrown down. He looked passive enough with a blank expression on his face. He looked very tired. She felt a strange pang of empathy for this stranger and decided to remain sitting for a bit longer. They sat there on the sidewalk for a couple minutes, Spike watching the sky and Tara watching Spike. Finally it was Spike who broke the silence.

"Not in much of a hurry anymore are you?"

Tara bit her lip and screwed up her vision, her habit when she was embarrassed.

"I-I'm really sorry I knocked into you," she said.

Spike's eyes remained on the sky as he spoke to her.

"You might not even be a real person you know. You may just be an agent of the powers that be, sent here with the express purpose of making my live as uncomfortable as possible. The way my life has been lately, it is rather likely that's all you are."

_I could say the same for you_, Tara said in her head. She wanted to say it aloud but couldn't bring herself to say such a harsh thing to a complete stranger.

"It feels like all the shit in this world has been washed up into a great whirpool and I'm stuck right there at the bloody center of it. All this misery is just wrapping itself around me over and over until it's a cozy little cocoon self-pity and frustration. "

Spike's head was filled with cotton and that grey gunky stuff that collects in the depths of your blue jean pockets. He was hardly aware of anything accept the unadulterated spurge of verbal diarrhea leaking from his mouth.

"I w-wasn't looking where I was going," she replied in a muffled tone. "I should have been p-paying more attention."

_He's not too bad looking_, she thought to herself. Immediately she was surprised. It was very rare that any boy caught her attention. She almost flushed at the thought of her approving of a man.

"I've been abducted and taken to a world of pain and anguish. It wasn't always like this. We were all so happy together. All those years together, all the violence and blood, it was so beautiful. Who would want to mess with that?" Spike's eyes started to glaze over. Tara wasn't sure if it was the alcohol taking effect or if he was retreating into his memories.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

Spike finally turned his head and looked her straight in the face for the first time. He took in her wide blue eyes and stringy hair. He saw the mess of papers the encircled them and the books strewn about the ground.

"Are you?" he replied.

Tara hesitated for a second. She felt her head shake 'no' and a small smile form on her mouth.

Spike didn't respond for a few second. A toothy, almost maniacal grin spread across his face and said, "I've been far from okay for the last three decades."

Tara blinked in confusion. The man in front of her couldn't possibly be older than 26. She wanted to ask what he meant but she felt the words stick to the back of her throat. As always her natural shyness had left her without a response so she began to pick up some the papers as to cover her incapacity to talk. Spike just watched her at first but began to gather some of the pages by him as well. He was surprised to see Wiccan symbols on most of them. He leaved through the documents to see if anything looked familiar to him. Most of it was very in-depth stuff, talking about the metaphysics of transcendental meditation and the magical properties of measured ingredients as opposed to intuitively added materials.

"I'm not going to pretend to be any kind of expert in this witchy stuff, but this is the real deal. You're not some just some moon worshiping sorority sister. You have to be a pretty serious witch to manage with this sort of material," said Spike.

Tara blushed at his compliment but was only able to manage a slightly strangled, "Thank you."

Spike handed the papers back to her and asked how long she had studied dark arts.

"All my life," Tara said, having to force her self to keep eye contact. "My mother was a very powerful witch. She taught me whatever she could until I was seven, but then she died."

Spike nodded but didn't offer any form of sympathy. Tara was relieved, she hated it when strangers tried to fake their concern for her lose when they learned about her mother's death. His response was very refreshing for her.

She finished gathering up all the papers and books that hadn't blown away and started to move away.

"Wait!" Tara turned back around to face a very confused Spike. "Where are you going?"

Tara mumbled, "Back home" under her breath and stared at the ground. She always hated this part of the conversation. She never knew exactly what was expected of her to say. She wanted to stay and talk with him but couldn't think of anything to say.

Spike couldn't explain it but he had to keep this girl here with him. She was a pasty, stringy shadow of a girl who he would hardly look over for a decent meal but he wanted her to stay a little longer. He chalked it up to generic loneliness.

"What's you name?" he asked.

"Tara. Tara Golden."

Spike smiled softly and said, "That's a good name. It suits you."

Tara shyly smiled back. "What's yours?"

Spike puffed up his chest before saying, "My name's William. That's William, not Billy or any other butchery of my name you can come up with. But me friends call me Spike" He winked and continued, "it's a bit of an inside joke."

Tara nodded and felt an awkward pause come in. Suddenly, as if a window had opened inside her, she felt herself say, "Would you like to walk me home, Spike?"

For Tara, it felt like the apocalypse had just come crashing down upon them. She couldn't believe that such a forward suggestion had just escaped her mouth. For Spike, it was a perfect opportunity to stay in the company of another person and he happily agreed. _After all_, he reasoned, _misery loves company_.

Tara felt the blinding panic of social anxiety come crashing down on her as soon they began to move in the direction of her dorm. She began to storm her brain for conversation starters, her biggest weakness.

_Where are you from?_ As if that wasn't blindingly obvious from his strong Cockney accent.

_How long have you been in Sunnydale?_ No, too boring and possibly to personal.

_Do you go to school here?_ He certainly didn't look like a university student. Maybe an art student with his died hair but there was a restlessness about him that made her doubt that he would be a very good student.

Fortunately for her Spike excelled at small talk, having practiced it for decades, luring his victims into a false sense of security before viciously draining them dry.

"So you're a real witch then?"

Tara nodded meekly, smilingly slightly. It felt good to be recognized as a witch instead of a girl. Somehow she felt stronger now that someone thought of her as having power.

"If you're a real witch, can you tell me my fortune?" That small piece of humor was all Tara needed to take a brief sigh of relief for having a conversation to go on before replying.

"I could but it wouldn't mean anything."

Spike cocked his head in interest. "Oh? And why is that?"

"If you know anything about witchcraft, you would know that there's nothing to be gained by looking for meaning in future events. Even if I told you exactly what you were going to be doing in three days at noon, it wouldn't make sense to you. You might try to force yourself to live out a different life from what I gave to you, simply causing another alternate reality to break off from this one and send us into a spiral of unpredictable events." Tara was startled by her answer. She had never said so many words at once without stuttering or becoming incoherent. Spike didn't seem to register anything unusual.

"I see, so you think that I would challenge any prediction you would give me? You're probably right. I don't like playing by the rules." Spike let out a sigh. "Even without a witch I know my future is pretty bleak. I forecast a cloud of misery for a few days, a day or two of melancholy sprinkled with stabs of bitter regret."

Tara looked up at Spike's unhappy face. "You seem very dejected about something."

"Oh, that's very good. Did you have to read my aura to figure that one out?"

Tara couldn't help but chuckle. "No, it was just a feeling. Auras don't exist anyway, not in the way of the common conception of auras. They are more like a mixture of positive and negative thoughts that can be recognized subconsciously by other people. A magic user is more attuned to the subconscious and can usually pick up the emotions of other better. For example, I can tell that your very upset but you have a strong sense of self that will stop you from doing anything too extreme to relieve your anxiety." Before Tara could stop herself she continued, "But I don't care about that sort of magic."

Spike gazed back over at her, seemingly pleased to have someone to distract him. "What sort of magic do you study?"

Tara felt her natural shyness begin to flood her senses. She wanted to tell Spike everything, about the late nights she spent absorbed in magical texts, the bone breaking physical training she had succumbed herself to in order to strengthen her pain tolerance and hone her mind to the astral world, and the dreams of frenzied need and want. She wanted to but she could already feel her jaw begin to clamp, her brow begin to crease, and her eyes start to slip out of focus. She tried to speak but her tongue was too big for her mouth and her teeth wouldn't stop chattering.

"Cat got your tongue?" Spike asked.

Tara's eyes began to water and she nodded her head sadly.

Tara looked up into Spike's face with pain etched into her features. Spike could see his own misery mirrored in that expression. It was then he first saw the flash of beauty that would always mystify him. She was pasty, gangly, and plain, but at that moment Spike had never seen anything so tragically beautiful. He waited for a surge of lust to overtake him… but it never came. She was beautiful like the Mona Lisa, perfect in every respect, but someone to be admired from afar, not to be attained.

This girl was causing long lost emotions to stir again in his undead chest. He had never felt such an immediate connection with anyone. He couldn't let her get away from him.

He opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by a muffled statement from Tara. "What was that, pet?"

"I said this is my dormitory."

Spike looked up at the building, feeling that he had never seeing anything so imposing in his life. He racked his brain for excuses to keep her with him. Before he could stop the words he half-cried, "Can I go up with you?"

This spontaneous question seemed to break the girl from her spell of misery.

"What was that?"

"Can. I. Come. With. You. To. Your. Room." Spike said slowly with excellent articulation. "Please." He added as an after thought with a slight shrug.

Tara felt herself begin to blush but could feel the beginnings of a nod tingle in her neck. Quickly she shrugged if off. "I d-don't… I mean… it's not l-lke that. I don't… make… that… with…" her last words disappeared in an incomprehensible babble.

Spike suddenly felt even worse, which twenty minutes ago he would have thought was impossible. He shook his head and with a flick of his wrist he said, "Forget it. Never mind. I just thought you would…" He hesitated then turned heel to leave. "Never mind," he called over his shoulder.

Tara felt a new anxiety overcome her at the sight of his receding back. Later, she would think of her next line as the greatest moment of her life. But at that moment she could only feel her own clammy clenched hands and thoroughly butterflied stomach as she called out, "Maybe we could get coffee!"

The dark figure was almost out of sight but she saw it stop. After it second it turned and waved back at her. A fit of girlish glee swept her away and she waved back enthusiastically, throwing her entire body into the wave. She knew she probably looked like a dork, but that hardly mattered to her now. She turned back to her dorm door with a slight bounce in step. She felt relaxed, powerful, and in control. Three sensations that had eluded her for weeks. She couldn't explain why she was so content all of a sudden. If anything that chance encounter with the bleached-blond man had been a complete fiasco. She had after all knocked him over, lectured him about the boring and inane inner-workings of magic, then practically blew him off when they got to her dorm, completely forgetting to thank him for his company. However it was with a much lighter heart that she lay her head down on her pillow. She quickly drifted off to sleep and dreamed about open fields of green grass and beautiful blue skies filled with puffy white clouds. There was someone in the dream with her. Someone who she liked and she knew liked her back. When she woke she forgot the specifics but something about that dream stayed with Tara the next day, filling her with a secret happiness like a flame hidden in her chest.


	2. Conversations

Chapter 2

Conversations

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Sundown was at 7:14. Spike was sited with a hot cup of chocolate in front of him in the Coffee Hut by 7:25.

He felt rather silly having rushed over here so early. He had made sure he woke up an hour early so he would be ready the minute the sun went down. The shabby apartment building he was staying at wasn't too far away from downtown Sunnydale but it was still a bit of a hike. Also it wasn't in the best neighborhood. Not that Spike ever worried about getting attacked, he was after all far scarier than anything that would dare attack him, but it wasn't easy to convince his prey to follow him home that way. He would have to kill them in back alleys or in the park. It got the job done but he preferred to be a bit more relaxed when he ate. He couldn't complain about the rent though. Free was a nice price to pay. He had moved in when he had found the previous owner already dead in the apartment. Some little old lady whose son paid for a dinky little apartment for her to live in but never visited her there or called. She was dead two weeks by the time Spike found her by his reckoning, which was usually pretty good. A bonfire and a few squirt of Febreze later, the room was almost habitable, but Spike still appreciated his discrete lack of needing to breath.

_She probably isn't going to come anytime soon. She might not have meant to meet me next day. Maybe she meant on Friday. She is a student after all, she probably is still in classes or studying. Why do I want to see her so badly?_

He stirred his hot chocolate idly and stared out the window. He put the spoon on the table then crossed his arms. Then, he uncrossed them. He felt very restless and agitated, an unwelcome condition that he had been relieved of all last night. As soon as he had gotten home he had felt a weight lifted off his chest. He felt better than he had in decades. He felt like his old self again, back when…

The door opened with a cheap tingling of a bell and a rush of cool air followed the new entrant into the coffee shop. A newly familiar face appeared under stringy blonde hair.

"Tara!" Spike called out, motioning to the chair across from him. His restlessness was gone sudden. He even smiled.

Tara glanced over from where she heard her name being called. Her heart skipped happily. _He is already here!_ She thought. She had come down as soon as her last class was done. She had even brought her latest spell book to study while she waited for him but now even the fascinating world of spellcraft and wizardry would have to wait.

Tara hurried over to the table and sat across from Spike. She gave him a wide smile. "Hello, William. I didn't expect to meet you so soon again."

Spike shrugged and took a sip of his hot chocolate. "You were the one who suggested we get coffee but failed to specify when or where. I was forced to make an educated guess." He nodded towards the books she was carrying. "What's this? Going to turn me into a hamster or some rot?"

Tara shook her head. "No, physical transmutation isn't a matter of a simple incantation or flick of the wrist. It is a serious bit of magic that involves a lot of planning and foresight. When something is transmuted all of the energy from the matter that is displaced has to go somewhere. You have to funnel that energy through yourself and into an area where… oh. That was a joke."

Spike raised his eyebrow. "You learn all of that from books? Must not have much of a social life then, I'm guessing."

Tara shrugged. "I have friends in some of my classes, but I wouldn't call them bosom friends. I… don't make friends easily. People tend to think I'm… weird."

"So, no boyfriend, I'm guessing," Spike probed while giving her a knowing glance.

Tara blushed and shook her head profusely. "No! I've never… it's not…I'm not… _inclined_…" She bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from saying another word. _That_ was something she had no intention of telling anyone, especially not a strange man she had only known for two days.

Spike raised his eyebrow even further. "Now, now, relax, love. I'm just making small chat, there's no need to fret. I'm just trying to feel you out. Figure out what sort of person you are."

Tara shrugged and frowned. "I guess I'm a normal person. I go to classes, I knit scarves sometimes, and I have a cat."

"And you could probably levitate this spoon just by looking at it, I bet," Spike said with a smile.

Tara shifted in her seat uncomfortably and muttered, "Well, maybe not a spoon but a pencil, maybe…"

Spike laughed. "I don't think you give yourself enough credit. If you are really as engrained into the magical arts as I suspect you are, you have to be a pretty extraordinary person. Magic doesn't just come to anyone. You probably have you witchy mother to thank for that."

Tara flushed. She wasn't used to compliments but wasn't going to turn them down. "How come you know so much about magic then? Are you a magic user too?" She studied him carefully. "There is something a little… off about you." Tara's eyes flashed wide and she gaped wildly. "I don't mean… I'm just saying… I'm sorry, that didn't come out right."

Spike laughed again. This girl was fun! He was having fun! And he hadn't even killed anything yet tonight. "Don't even think of apologizing for making an acute observation. I like people who can see exactly what is in front of them, not just what they expect to see. Tell me now, and I want you to be as clear as possible. What do you think is off about me?" He asked with a devilish smile.

Tara took a deep breath and forced herself to relax. Her social anxiety was making a royal mess of her but she couldn't let that stop her. She closed her eyes, focused her energy, then opened them again, allowing herself to deeply examine the man in front of her. First she read his emotions. He was obviously in a much better mood than he was yesterday. He was still angry and a bit lonely, but his strong character wasn't allowing him to wallow in self-pity, at least at the moment. She moved to his physical appearance. He was an attractive young man, strong and fit. He had a scar above one eye and prominent cheek bones. She allowed herself to relax further, letting herself float above herself, as she liked to think of it. It was the witchy-version of thinking outside of the box. She let her body and spirit disconnect and looked at the man in front of her with eyes unconnected to the physical world. It was only a split second, but she sensed that off all the things in the coffee shop, the tables, the chairs, the spoon, or the mug in his hand, he was the least substantial thing. He just didn't fit in with everything around him. Even the air had a certain stillness around him, as if he wasn't even there.

Spike awaited the witch's diagnosis. He felt himself tense up when he sensed her momentarily leave her body. As a vampire, he couldn't see souls or read minds, but he could tell when there was someone in a body and when the lights were on but someone had stepped out for a second. This witch was well-practiced at achieving access to the astral plan. He hadn't expected that. He began to feel nervous and what her reaction would be when she saw that he wasn't exactly human.

Tara's head was reeling. What did she know about this person in front of her? He had certainly never tried to do her harm. If anything, he had been exceptionally nice to her. He was currently just sitting there, across the table from her, drinking from a mug with a paisley design on it. She thought quickly of what to say. She could tell he was getting impatient by her long review of him.

"You are… a strong person." She started. "You have a lot of pain, but you are coping. You are a very… forward person. You deal with your problems head on. You also aren't very patient."

"You could tell all that just by reading my aura?" Spike said.

"No, you were tapping your foot the entire time I was watching you."

Spike smiled. "And what else? I could have gotten all of that from any garden-variety fortune teller. You've got more skills than that."

Tara took a breath and said, "You aren't human. I don't know what you are, but you don't belong on this plane of existence. However, since you don't seem to be trying to eat me or trick me out of my soul, I don't think you're all bad."

Spike threw his head back and laughed heartily. Tara blushed as people from other tables glanced over to see what was so funny.

Spike wiped a tear from his eye and he finished laughing. "Oh, you are good. Ha ha, you are a precious jewel, pet. I haven't met a mystic who could figure me out as fast as you in a long time."

"You're not mad then," Tara asked nervously.

"Mad? Of course I'm not mad. No, but I would like to correct something you said. Just because I'm not trying to hurt you, doesn't make me a white hat."

"No," Tara answered softly. "No, it doesn't."

Spike cocked his head. "So, here you are, sitting in a coffee shop with a non-human who fancies a hot cup of cocoa. I've just told you that I am not a good guy. What are you going to do now?" Spike felt an unexpected jab of anxiety. He really wanted Tara to stay right where she was right now. He wanted to stay in her company just a little longer. He couldn't explain this desire properly. He examined her appearance again. She was still a slender slip of a girl with a pasty complexion and stringy blonde hair. He checked his libido and still found nothing sexually appealing about her. However, her smile was strangely comforting and there was something very familiar about her eyes and hands. He thought for a second that he might have met her before but quickly cast aside the thought. He was quite sure that he hadn't seen her around Sunnydale before.

"I'm… not worried about that." Tara said, surprised at her own words. Non-humans were potentially very dangerous. Her studies of magic had concreted that idea in her head. However, she didn't feel the least bit threatened by William, or Spike, whatever he called himself. "I just want a cup of coffee and a nice chat."

A breath was released that didn't know it was being held. There was an obvious drop of tension between the two of them. Spike raised his eyes and smiled cockily. "Well, now. You are an interesting one. I think this is the start of a very interesting friendship, don't you think, love?"

Tara smiled widely in return. "I hope so."

Neither of them noticed time passed, but they must have talked for hours since after they were kicked out of the Coffee Hut then went over to the Bronze for a drink and were kicked out of there as well when closing time came. It was in the wee hours of the morning, though sun-rise was thankfully many hours off, when Tara and Spike realized they had spent the entire night talking. They stood out in front of the Bronze, facing each other, neither of them breaking the silence. It was a very dignified and comfortable silence. It came well-deserved after so many hours of talking. The both of them were relaxed and surprisingly content to stand there, just basking in each other's company, till finally Tara said, "Well now, Mr. William Spike, Master Vampire, Killer of Two Slayers, and Originator of the Billy Idol-look, what now?"

"What do you mean, Tara the Witch, History Major at Sunnydale University, and Award Winning Singer?"

Tara laughed. "I'm not an award winning singer. I was just asked to sing the national anthem at my high school homecoming and I refused to do it because I was too scared to get up in front of all of those people."

"And you played a highly acclaimed supporting role in a community-produced Guys and Dolls." Spike pointed out cheerfully.

"Highly acclaimed is not how you would describe it. Everyone got roses from the local newspaper." Tara shook her head. "I wasn't even that good. I made so many mistakes, it was really embarrassing."

"You'll have to sing for me one day," Spike said airily. "I'd like to hear you sing."

Tara smiled warmly. "When horses discover the cure for cancer, I sing a whole opera, just for you."

"You should have more confidence in yourself," said Spike. "I think you would be surprised with what you could do."

"And you should get over that Drusilla girl," Tara chided. "She'll only bring you more pain. You deserve better than the likes of her."

"Yeah, you're probably right. Crazy loon, she was. But I was in love with her for over a hundred years. It's just hard to move on, you know?"

Tara placed a hand on Spike arm. "I know, it's always hard. But look on the bright side."

"Oh, and what is that?"

Tara smile mischievously. "At least you have your health."

Spike threw back his head and laughed heartily. He was happy! He was content. He hadn't felt this way since he could last remember. This girl was amazing. She always knew the right thing to say, and just when to say it. She made him feel more relaxed and confident that he had felt since Dru left him. No, even before that. Had he ever been this happy before.

Tara felt like a new person. She wasn't stammering. She wasn't afraid that Spike would laugh at her or think she was weird. She felt a feeling of self-worth begin to grow in her that she hadn't known since her mother had died. She felt drunk off of her sense of well-being. She didn't want to leave his company, which meant…

"Where do you leave here in Sunnydale," she asked.

Spike nodded off in the direction of his crummy apartment.

"Can I come with you to your place?" she asked suddenly, shocking herself.

Spike smiled and said, "I'm sorry, what was that?"

Tara smiled back. "Can. I. Come. With. You. To…"

"Of course, why didn't you ask earlier? Let's get going!" Spike threw his arm over Tara's shoulders and lead her towards his apartment.

That night, they slept together on Spike's newly inheritated bed. They didn't touch, they only slept. Together, they dreamed of a clearing in some strange distant woods, with puffy white clouds over head. It was the most peaceful and refreshing rest either of them ever had. When they awoke, it was as if they were different people, and neither of them could find reason to complain of it.


End file.
